


who's gonna save you

by the_problem_with_stardust



Series: dancing with a wolf [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Feral Derek, Full Shift Werewolves, Future Fic, M/M, Needles, POV Stiles, Rescue, Restraints, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Anchor, Torture, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 15:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_problem_with_stardust/pseuds/the_problem_with_stardust
Summary: “The chemist has come up with two new formulas. One to stop your lies and one to stop your heart.”Stiles feels the blood drain from his face. This was not the plan.





	who's gonna save you

**Author's Note:**

> General disclaimer: I don’t own anything, but please, please, please don’t post my work anywhere without my permission.
> 
> No beta, so if you see anything glaringly wrong feel free to drop me a note in the comments.
> 
> And finally, I think I got everything potentially triggering in the tags, but please let me know if you think I've missed something.

Stiles wakes up, content. For a moment, he thinks he’s home in his bed. But his mattress is moving, up and down, like breathing. He shifts slightly and stifles a groan. Pain races through his limbs like wildfire. Then a warm hand slides up his bare back, draining the aches away and leaving him loose and floaty.

He opens his eyes to concrete walls and Derek’s scruffy chin. And he panics. Derek just tightens his hold, gentle enough not to aggravate his injuries. Stiles eventually calms down, burying his face in Derek’s chest.

“I was hoping this was a nightmare,” he mutters into the warm skin.

Derek eases them back up to sitting. “They brought us food.”

Stiles snorts. “Yeah, probably because you’re a werewolf who can’t conjure his own sustenance.” At least he thinks that’s why they haven’t been feeding him. Or maybe they didn’t want a repeat of day two when he blew chunks all over the guy in the scrubs.

“How long have you been here?” Derek’s thumb brushes over Stiles’ hip, keeping him grounded.

He shrugs. “Five days? Four before you showed up?”

Without a word, Derek drops the sandwich and bottled water onto Stiles’ lap.

“Are you sure? We could split it.”

Derek raises an eyebrow and Stiles knows that expression means that any further protesting will be like arguing with a wall.

He gulps the sandwich down in about three bites, then uncaps the bottle and passes it to Derek. “At least drink some water, dude.”

The werewolf caves, taking a couple sips before handing the bottle back.

Stiles screws the lid in place. “So what brings you back to the lovely Beacon Hills?”

“It’s Hale territory.”

“Just as forthcoming as I remembered.” Stiles grumbles.

Derek rolls his eyes. “The hunters said something about a chemist when they took me.”

“Yeah. He’s a nasty dude.” Stiles plays with the label on the water bottle. “I think they’re trying to find something that works like wolfsbane for druids.”

Derek frowns. “What’s the point?”

And yeah, Stiles has had a lot of time to wonder that very question. “It sounds like some druids can heal like wolves? But basically I don’t have the skills or training.”

There must have been a noise in the hall, because Derek is instantly on his feet. Stiles drags himself up, using the wall for support.

A sharp knock on the door is followed by the hunter yelling, “Unless you want a face full of wolfsbane, step away from the door.”

Derek doesn’t move, still in a fighting stance, razor-sharp claws extended.

Stiles sets a hand on his shoulder and urgently whispers, “Derek, we can’t escape if they kill you.”

The werewolf growls, still on edge, but moves to stand behind him. He lets the hunter drag Stiles out without so much as losing his eyebrows. Stiles is impressed with his control.

Getting shoved down onto the examination table is pretty much old hat by now. Stiles doesn’t even try to fight against the restraints the hunter fastens around his wrists and ankles. But this time, the man in the scrubs comes out with two syringes. And even after five days of this, Stiles still can’t stand the sight of needles.

The man must see the fear in Stiles’ eyes because his grin widens. “Yes, the chemist has come up with two new formulas. One to stop your lies and one to stop your heart.”

Stiles feels the blood drain from his face. This was not the plan.

“But I’ve been instructed not to kill you yet,” the man continues. “We still have some questions for you.”

He selects one of the needles. Stiles tenses against the restraints. When he doesn’t die immediately following the injection, he lets out the breath he was holding. It really would have sucked if the guy mixed up the needles. For fucks sake, they weren’t even labeled.

“It’s time to talk little spark.” He drags his attention back to the man in the scrubs. “We would like to know about werewolves and emissaries.”

Stiles tightens his jaw. He doesn’t know much, but that doesn’t mean he wants this fucker knowing anything. But refusing not to talk is agony.

The man frowns. “Maybe that wasn’t specific enough. Is there a pack bond between an alpha and its emissary?”

“I don’t know.” The answer is dragged from his throat against his will.

“See? It’s not so bad if you don’t fight it.” The man leans forward in his seat. “If an alpha bites a druid, do they automatically reject the bite? Or do they become a were? And if they do become a were, are they still immune to mountain ash?”

Stiles grits his teeth, sweat dripping into his eyes. The serum burns in his veins, punishing him for trying to keep quiet. Dark spots are starting to swim in his vision.

The man reaches for the other syringe. “I am curious to see if this will work like it’s supposed to.”

As his hand closes around it, Stiles’ concentration breaks. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I’m not even a real druid. I just have a spark whatever the hell that means.”

“Well, that was very…unenlightening. I said we should have gone for the other druid, but unfortunately, he is heavily warded.” The man in the scrubs is mostly a blurred outline. “It’s a good thing the chemist is satisfied with his work. You are expendable now.”

Stiles can feel his heart lurch, breathing going ragged. He’s seen enough action movies to know what happens next.

The man laughs at his reaction. “Yes. But I’m not going to kill you. We have a way to make a ‘wolf go feral. To trap him in his shift. The alpha will bite you, and then we will know the answers to some of those questions.”

But the response leaves Stiles more puzzled than terrified. How has he not noticed that Derek is an alpha again? Then he remembers that the full moon is tonight. And one of the options is that the bite is fatal to druids. Which possibly means sparks too.

When Stiles gets dragged back to the cell, he knows he reeks of fear. Derek is growling, eyes alpha red. So he did get his powers back. That’s definitely a story Stiles wants to hear if they make it out of this mess alive.

As soon as the door closes, Derek is grabbing for his arm, veins running black. “What did they do to you?”

“Nothing.” Stiles leans into the touch.

Derek glares at him. He probably heard the skip in his heartbeat, which means the truth serum must have worn off. Stiles pulls out of his grasp, dropping his eyes to the concrete floor.

“Well, nothing worse than they’ve already done.” Stiles makes it to the wall, legs shaky and ribs aching.

He tries to sit, but everything is spinning. It feels like his entire body is betraying him. Derek reaches out again to take his pain, keeping him steady until they’re both sitting with their backs against the wall. He waits for Stiles to continue.

“They’re going to turn you feral.”

Derek freezes. “Why.”

“So that you’ll bite me,” Stiles says.

The alpha relaxes at that. “Okay.”

“What?” Stiles’ voice cracks. “If I’m a druid, the bite will probably kill me.”

“I’m not going to bite you, Stiles.” The certainty in Derek’s words leaves little room for argument.

But Stiles is Stiles, so he presses on. “How could you possibly know that?”

Derek sighs. “My wolf doesn’t feel like it has to claim you.”

“What does that even mean?” Stiles rests his head back against the hard concrete wall.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

Stiles rolls his head to look at Derek, sitting tense beside him. “Yeah, big guy. It would really help if you used your words right now.”

“You’re already pack,” he bites out.

Which was certainly news to Stiles. “Since when?”

“I don’t know.” Derek’s thumb is rubbing circles on the inside of his elbow. “Since the beginning probably.”

Stiles thinks about it. His brain feels like it’s working at half speed. “But is it more than that? Because that pack bond would have to be crazy strong for you to recognize it even when you’re feral.”

It’s only a passing thought, really, but Derek goes shifty eyed and his hand stills on Stiles’ arm.

“Come on, Sourwolf. You were doing so well with the words.” Stiles nudges him, then regrets it when his head spins.

Finally, Derek manages a quiet, “yes.”

“Yes what?”

Derek huffs. “Yes, it’s more than that.”

“Want to elaborate?” Stiles is sure he’s glaring holes into the side of Derek’s skull.

Derek stares resolutely at the wall in front of him. “You’re my anchor.”

Stiles can feel his jaw drop. “Wait. _I’m_ your anchor? Like Lydia was Jackson’s anchor? Or,” his stomach twists with guilt and sadness, “like Allison was Scott’s?”

“Stiles…” Derek is still not meeting his eyes, but he isn’t protesting either.

After a moment, Stiles decides to just go for it. He might be dead in a few hours anyway, so what does it matter if Derek rips his throat out with his teeth. “Can I kiss you?”

Derek jerks his head toward him, looking shocked.

“I mean, I’d like that. A lot actually. If that’s something that you’d like.” And apparently rambling is a thing he does now. Great.

But Derek doesn’t seem deterred by it. His hand slides down Stiles’ arm until he can lace their fingers together. “Yeah, I’d like that too.”

Stiles has to refrain from fist-pumping or something equally ridiculous. But even shifting closer to Derek has him feeling woozy. Derek seems to realize that, because he turns his head and presses his lips against Stiles’ temple. “Maybe we should go on a date first.”

The grin on Stiles’ face is only a little loopy. “And then kissing.” He can feel Derek smile into his hair.

“And then kissing,” he agrees.

There is a commotion in the hallway, and a cloud of purple smoke unfurls under the door. Derek squeezes his hand before letting go. “It’s going to be okay.”

With a horrible crunch of bones breaking and reforming, Derek shifts into an actual wolf. He shakes out his limbs and curls up next to Stiles, letting him lean back against him. It takes some time and a lot of Derek whining and nudging Stiles with his nose until he relaxes. Derek’s fur is warm and soft, so Stiles lets himself drift on the edge of unconsciousness for a while.

He wakes to a roar echoing down the hall, followed by yelling. Stiles looks down at the black wolf who is calm but alert, like he is waiting. This must be Derek’s pack coming to the rescue.

Something thuds against the solid metal door. The scrape of a key in the lock has Stiles shrinking back against Derek’s fur. With an ominous creak, the door swings open.

“Stiles!” And that’s Isaac in the doorway. Stiles frowns. Isn’t he supposed to be in France? Maybe this was some weird nightmare after all.

Derek gets to his paws, nudging Stiles gently before looking at Isaac. The beta must get the message, because he helps Stiles to his feet.

“We gotta go.” Isaac turns to Derek. “The rest of them are upstairs. I’ll get Stiles to Argent.”

The wolf jerks his head in acknowledgement, then shoots out the door. Isaac follows, supporting almost all of Stiles’ weight. Because walking is suddenly a lot harder than he remembered. Stiles can feel the edges of his vision shrinking as they reach to the van, but before the darkness can claim him, he swears he sees Allison in the driver’s seat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for sticking with me and giving awesome feedback! The final installment should be posted sometime between now and Sunday.
> 
> Until then, I am on [tumblr!](https://theproblemwithstardust.tumblr.com)


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